Paul's Bar Mitzvah
by EdgarGetting
Summary: On the evening of Paul's Bar Mitzvah, Paul's unrequited love for Kevin leads him to suggest they have some fun. It's fun in the first chapter, not so much in the second. Kevin/Paul and Kevin/Paul/Wayne.
1. Chapter 1

I recently watched some repeats of early episodes of the Wonder Years, and it occurred to me that the actions and attitudes of Kevin and Paul could be quite neatly explained by Paul suffering unrequited love for Kevin. This fic develops that idea. Of course for a TV programme as unrelentingly upbeat as the Wonder Years, the things I make Kevin and Paul do may seem a little out of character, but I don't think it's beyond the realms of possibility.

WARNING: This chapter contains graphic sex between two pubescent boys, so if you don't think you'll like it, don't read it.

xxxxx

It all started the day of Paul's Bar Mitzvah. Out of sheer bad luck, this momentous event in Paul's life had fallen on my 13th birthday, but after celebrating with my family I managed to get to the end of the ceremony and the party afterwards. Everyone kept on telling Paul he was a man now, and because he was being such a good friend to me and including me in everything, it felt kinda like it was my party too. We had both become men together.

As the party would down and the guests went home, Paul and I escaped up to his room to get some peace and quiet and to avoid having to help clear up downstairs. We had both stuffed ourselves, so we were feeling pretty full as we sat on the edge of his bed.

Paul slung an arm casually around my shoulder and said, "Thanks for coming today Kevin."

I put on a voice like his grandfather and replied, "We are thirteen, we are men now."

Paul laughed and pushed me over. He put on the voice too, and said, "Now we are men, we must fight like men," and launched himself at me. We rolled around on the bed in a play-fight in the way that only close friends can.

At one point, Paul, was pressed against me and I suddenly became aware that he had a hard on. Looking back now, I don't really remember if I was aware of homosexuality as a concept, but if I was, I certainly hadn't associated it with Paul. But I noticed his boner pushing into me, and he must have realised I'd noticed, because we suddenly stopped fighting and he blushed. He turned half away, and self consciously pushed at it, as if to try and force it down again.

I realised Paul must be embarrassed, so tried to think of something to say to take his mind off it.

The best I could come up with was, "So now that we're men, what do we do now that we didn't do when we were kids?"

Paul must have taken this as encouragement, because he replied, "Do you ever jerk off?"

I was shocked by this question. Sure, I'd been jerking off loads in the last few months and I was guessing Paul had too, but we'd never talked about it before. I didn't think it was the kind of thing you could talk about.

Eventually, I said, "Sure," then added, "I mean, sometimes," so I didn't sound like too much of a pervert. "Do you?"

Paul grinned disarmingly and said, "Yeah".

He was kneeling on the bed, still cupping his erect dick in his hands, and after a second or two he said, "Do you wanna... I mean, shall we do it now?"

He looked so hopeful I didn't want to just say no, so I shrugged my shoulders in what I hoped was a non-committal manner. It obviously wasn't non-committal enough, because he took it for a "yes" and immediately pulled down his pants to expose his penis. Free of the fabric, it sprang upwards, seeming to strain up to the ceiling.

I had seen Paul's dick before a few times, like getting changed for gym class, but I'd never really looked at it before, and I'd certainly never seen it erect. He was circumcised, obviously, and the narrow, reddish-pink head bobbed about on a slender stalk as it twitched. It looked like it had got a little bigger recently, almost like it had just been stretched out but hadn't had the time to fill out the width yet. It was maybe four inches long, and to me it looked powerful. I realise now he was only in the earliest stages of puberty – he had only the merest whisper of pubic hair and it would get quite a lot bigger than 4 inches in time, but at the time I thought it was strong and manly and massive.

Paul began to stroke his burgeoning sexuality, and I reasoned that the embarrassment I was currently suffering would probably lessen if we were both doing this. So, even though I didn't really want to, I pulled down my pants and, praying that no-one would walk in, I took hold of my penis.

I thought it looked small, miserable and shrivelled in comparison to Paul's. It was pale and flaccid when I got it out, about an inch and a half long and hairless. I coaxed myself up to an erection which added about an extra inch and gave it a pleasing pinkish colour, but I still felt like I had a child's dick next to Paul's man's one.

Even when erect, my foreskin completely covered the head, so my usual jerk-off technique was to take the shaft between a finger and thumb and roll the skin back and forth over the end. I settled into a rhythm and tried to conjure up an image of Winnie. Try as I might, though, I couldn't. The strange excitement of this situation pushed all thoughts of her from my mind.

I looked across to Paul, who was staring intently at me, and grinning.

He said, "I... it's more comfortable... you know... naked."

"Right," I replied.

He took this as approval from me, and immediately stripped, before hopping back onto the bed. His body was skinny and elongated, in the same way as his dick. He was skinnier than me, which gave me some pride back, even though he was a little taller. Once he was back on the bed, he suddenly became embarrassed to be naked, with me fully dressed. I figured it would help if I was naked too, so I stood up and took off my clothes. Paul watched me intently as I undressed, and this, coupled with the feeling of naughtiness from being naked with my best friend, gave me a rush of excitement. My dick was harder than I'd ever felt it, and I was suddenly enjoying myself. I had a sudden urge to really revel in our nudity, so I jumped onto Paul and we wrestled again, naked, erect, and loving it.

Even now, I'm not sure whether I really ever had the same sexual desire for Paul that he had for me, or whether I was just excited by the closeness of our friendship taken to exciting new places, with my hormonal body manifesting this in a hard cock and grabbing hands. It was certainly different from the desire I felt for Winnie – I don't remember ever looking at Paul and admiring his physicality. It was more like allowing myself to be carried forward on a wave of excitement, enjoying it because it was new and naughty – almost like deliberately annoying my brother, just for the thrill of evading capture when he chased me.

Our wrestling gradually altered to grinding our bodies against one another, thrusting and grabbing and squeezing various parts of each other's anatomy. We settled down, lying facing one another, legs intertwined, cocks touching. We each had hands on the other's backside, gently rocking our hips to rub erections together. Our foreheads were touching as we both looked down to watch our dicks dance together.

I looked up at Paul as he looked up at me, and very naturally our mouths came together and our lips touched.

Something twinged inside me and it felt wrong, almost, so when he moved forward again for a second kiss, I backed away, and said "Paul, I'm not sure."

He looked hurt, and said, "Oh, right, I thought..." Suddenly he brightened: he had had an idea.

"It's just practice!"

I squinted at him. "Practice?"

"Yeah, for when we're kissing girls. I mean, you want to do it right, don't you?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"Well how are you going to learn how to do it if you don't get some practice?"

I could see right through Paul's lame practice theory, but I had a change of heart and decided to play along. I mean, I was lying here naked with him, rubbing my boner against his, so why would I suddenly wuss out at kissing him?

"OK," I replied, "let's get some practice."

"And you don't want to mess it up the first time you kiss W..."

I kissed him before he could get her name out. I didn't want to think about her now, it would spoil it. Paul was only too happy to stop talking, and as we kissed, he writhed his slim body against mine, rubbing his hands up and down my back, squeezing my ass and ruffling my hair.

Our lips parted and he darted in his tongue, and I was excited by the feel of it as it ran over mine. This turned into a game too, a gentle wrestling match as we both fought for dominance.

Paul got a little rough with his tongue, and I had to break off to say, "Hey, cool it a little Paul. If you kiss a girl that hard you'll pull a muscle."

Paul giggled, and said, "Sorry. But practice makes perfect," and kissed me again, this time with a more measured use of his tongue.

We moved our hips apart a little, and Paul reached down and took hold of my penis, and began to jerk me off, rolling my foreskin right back as far as it would go, then bringing it back over the head. There was something amazing about having my best friend pull on my hard-on, over and above the physical sensation. There was security in having someone so familiar, so usual, providing me with this pleasure that was so unfamiliar and unusual. We were exploring uncharted territory, and I had my best friend to guide me.

I reached out for his dick, and the instant I curled my fingers around it, it twitched with pleasure at my touch. I realised then that I had a wonderful power here – to be able to give this pleasure to my friend.

His cock felt hot and exciting in my grasp. It was so hard and eager and ready, and on a boy his age, at this opening stage of puberty, it was so full of potential and the overwhelming desire and ability to fulfil its sexual role, I saw it then as the manifestation, the personification, of sex, of man, of lust. And I had it in my hands. I felt like I was handling a valuable artefact or a deadly weapon. I had to take care.

There was no foreskin to roll back, so I gently ran my fingers over it, up the back, around the head, along the shaft. It was bigger than mine, so I could use more than a thumb and forefinger. Every touch, every movement seemed to elicit a response from Paul. I felt like God.

Paul let go of me, and trailed a line of kisses from my mouth, down my neck and onto my chest. He licked at my nipples, then continued to kiss down over my belly, until his mouth was hovering just over my dick. I couldn't resist the temptation, and lifted my hips so that it touched against his lips. He smiled, and kissed it again, then stuck out his tongue and licked all the way up the back.

Somehow, I don't know how, up to that point in my life I had never come across the concept of oral sex. The idea of using your mouth had never crossed my mind, and amazingly I had not heard of it from others. So when Paul took my penis into his mouth, the incredible physical pleasure was doubled by sheer surprise.

It was unbelievable, I had never dreamt that this feeling was possible. With the relatively simple act of bobbing up and down on my dick, Paul had utterly shattered all my concepts of sexual pleasure, which now seemed meagre, paltry, grubby things, and replaced them with something gleaming, shiny and new. Jerking off alone in my bedroom was a million miles away from this. Nothing could have prepared me for this, and I lost myself in the unbelievable joy of Paul's tongue twisting itself around my boner.

He stopped sucking before I reached orgasm, and it was only the desire to give the same pleasure to Paul that stopped me forcing him back down to finish the job.

I decided to tease him a little, to make him wait. He lay on his back and I kneeled beside him to do my work. Like he had done, I started at his mouth and kissed and licked down his narrow, slender torso, across the concave of his belly where it dropped away from his ribcage, down to his 

groin. But here, I avoided touching it for now, but stroked and kissed the area around it, getting him worked up.

I moved down between his parted legs, near his feet. Starting at his calf, I moved slowly up the inside of one leg, gradually coming closer to the prize. As I worked up his thigh his whole dick rhythmically throbbed, eager for my touch.

When I finally reached his groin, I blew lightly over his dick, but then took his balls into my mouth. He expressed his frustration with a moan of "Keviiiin!", and so I allowed myself to engulf the pure, hard sex of him. He let out a whimper as I took in the whole magnificent length, sucking gently as I took it in, and harder on the upstroke.

I could feel it alive against my tongue, throbbing, ready to burst almost before I'd even started. He put a hand in my hair and began to thrust gently up into my mouth. As he pushed deeper and deeper, I could feel him getting close to orgasm, but just as I expected a cry of pleasure, he pulled out and directed my hand to jerk him off. I didn't understand why he'd taken in out, but didn't have time to wonder if I was doing something wrong, because within two strokes he arched his back, gasped, and his throbbing dick squirted a narrow ribbon of spunk over his belly. Looking back now, he produced hardly any at all, but it was enough for him not to want to do it into my mouth. And as for me, I had never seen anyone ejaculate before, so it looked like gallons. I was in awe.

He was still throbbing into my hand, but no more sperm came out. "How long have you been able to do that?" I asked.

"Couple of weeks."

I stared at it, amazed that this boy, who wasn't so very different from me, could do something so advanced.

I shuffled up and sat across his hips, with a knee on the bed either side of his torso. My dick was still hard, and I was in need of an orgasm. He pulled me down for a kiss, then directed me to move up so that I was kneeling up by his armpits. I leant forwards, and he took me into his mouth. He had his hands on my butt and kept pulling me forward to thrust into him, and it took no time at all to reach climax. I knew that I couldn't ejaculate yet, so I stayed in his mouth as I throbbed and shuddered through my orgasm. It was incomparable to anything I had ever achieved alone. A hot, tingling sensation began in my balls and spread rapidly through my whole body. I was so dizzy I couldn't tell which way was up, and I pretty much collapsed onto Paul when it was over.

I had just about regained rational thought and we were enjoying a lazy kiss when Paul's dad shouted, "Kevin! Paul!" up the stairs.

Paul and I looked at each other in terror, and got dressed faster than anyone had ever got dressed before. We spent the final few seconds as he stomped up the stairs flattening each other's hair and trying not to look guilty.

When he opened the bedroom door, he found us sitting on the bed, casually flicking through comic books.

"Kevin, your dad's here. Are you ready to go?"


	2. Chapter 2

If the first chapter was moderately out of character, then this one is wildly so. But it's fiction, so what does it matter.

WARNING: This chapter contains more of the same, plus incestuous rape. If you don't like it, don't read it.

xxxxx

After the horror of almost being caught by Paul's dad, it was a couple of weeks before either of us dared to mention what had happened. I was glad of this, because even though what we'd done had been exciting, and kinda fun at the time, I had no real desire to repeat it. If anything, it made me concentrate on Winnie even more than before, though I of course realised that sex with her was absolutely out of the question for 5 years, minimum. 13 year old girls are considerably harder to seduce than 13 year old boys. Still, it didn't stop me hoping – every time I jerked off (which I did at least once a day at that point, and sometimes twice or even three times) it was Winnie who filled my fantasies. Paul didn't even get a look in.

I had strong suspicions that when Paul jerked off, he thought of no-one but me. I found it flattering at the time, but didn't really think much of it. But it's pretty obvious to me now that the poor guy was in love with me. Every day I would catch him gazing wistfully at me three or four times, and eventually, two weeks after his Bar Mitzvah, he brought up the topic I had been dreading.

I had managed to get hold of a lingerie catalogue, and we were looking through it on my bed. The photos must have been pretty tame, really, but at 13 they were enough to get me excited. I was trying to hide my erection from Paul, who kept glancing down at my crotch to see if I was hard. Without really meaning to I looked across at his groin, and could tell from the bulge in his pants that he was erect. He caught me looking, and I knew before he said it what he was going to suggest.

"Do you wanna... jerk off again?"

"I don't know," I replied, "I don't think we should."

I tried to think of a reason. "What if someone walks in?"

"But all your family are out, who's going to walk in?"

"I guess. But it doesn't feel right, you know? Don't you ever feel it's wrong, somehow?"

Paul must have had a better grasp of the taboos around homosexuality than I did, because his reply was "but we're looking at pictures of girls."

At the time I didn't understand what that had to do with anything – it hadn't occurred to me that what we were doing was gay – and anyway, he seemed to be looking at me more than he looked at the magazine.

I just shrugged my shoulders. Paul leaned towards me and rested his fingers on my boner. Even through the fabric of my jeans, I felt a tingle of excitement at his touch, and without thinking I pushed forward slightly into his hand. He undid my flies and pulled out my hard little dick, pulling his own from his flies at the same time. He began to jerk me off with his right hand while he fondled 

himself with his left. Immediately, physical pleasure overrode the reluctance I hand, and I made no further attempt to resist. Seeing that he was managing to jerk both himself and me, I didn't try to take hold of his cock, and settled back onto my elbows to let him get to work.

I continued to look through the pictures in the lingerie catalogue while Paul massaged my penis in his firm and skilful grip, a slight smile lifting the corner of his mouth.

He bit his lower lip, gathering confidence, and then took me into his mouth. I gasped at the glorious sensation – even in 2 weeks, I'd forgotten how good it was. I closed my eyes, overcome with the incredible feeling, and could feel myself starting to climb the ladder to climax when the moment was shattered.

Wayne walked in.

This was the worst thing that could possibly ever have happened. To be found lying on my bed with my best friend sucking my dick was bad enough. To be found by Wayne, my idiot brother, my constant persecutor, my sworn enemy: I thought I was going to die.

All I could say was, "Wayne, what are you doing here?"

Wayne smirked, and said, "Look at you two homos!"

My boner had subsided pretty rapidly, so I put it away and zipped up my flies. Paul was too shocked even to do that.

"Wait till everyone hears about this! Kevin and Paul are homos!"

"No, Wayne, you can't tell, please. I'll do anything."

Wayne just laughed.

Paul spoke, finally. "Please don't tell anyone."

Wayne laughed again, stoked his chin, and said, "You'll have to make it worth my while."

"Anything," I pleaded.

Wayne looked at Paul, who's dick was still poking through his flies – and still, bizarrely, erect, and said to him "If you suck me off, I might consider keeping it to myself."

I sensed a trap, but before I could warn Paul, he was on his knees in front of my brother, looking up expectantly. Wayne unzipped his fly and pulled out a monster. In my naïveté, I'd thought Paul's pubescent 4 inches was big, but here was Wayne, 16 years old, with seven fat inches sprouting from an unruly mat of pubic hair. He made us look like children – which we were, I suppose.

My first thought was that Paul must be pretty desperate for Wayne to keep quiet, because he took to Wayne's dick like he was dying of hunger. The girth of it pushed his jaw wide, and it went so far in I thought he would choke. I wanted to pull them apart, to stop him doing this to my best friend, but it gradually dawned on me that he didn't seem to mind. Paul was enjoying himself.

This realisation was confirmed when Paul started to jerk himself off, while Wayne thrusted deep down his throat. I started to feel a little disgusted by the relish with which my best friend pleasured my brother, and wondered whether I could get out and leave them to it.

But Wayne pulled out before ejaculating (there was visible disappointment on Paul's face), and said to me, "Your turn, Kevin."

"What? Don't be disgusting, I'm your brother!"

"So?" he replied, "Come over here and suck it or I'll tell everyone you're a homo."

I didn't move, so he walked over to where I was sitting on the bed, and took hold of my head. He pushed his cock up into my face, rubbing it against my cheek. It was still wet from Paul's saliva, which felt cold against my skin.

I kept my lips tightly closed while he tapped it against my mouth, so he pinched my nose. I opened my lips so that I could breathe, but clenched my teeth. He pushed it between my lips against my closed teeth, and I thought about biting it, but then he squeezed hard with a finger and thumb on my cheeks, forcing my jaw apart. Immediately he pushed his cock right to the back of my throat, making me gag. Again and again he thrusted hard into my mouth, more forceful because I had resisted. My jaw was painfully wide open, and I felt I would vomit.

I heard Paul say, "Stop it Wayne, you're hurting him," and thank God he relented, saying "He's shit at it anyway."

He pulled out, and straight away turned back to Paul, who was only too willing to oblige. I lay back on the bed, panting. When I had got my breath back, I turned to see Wayne ejaculating with a shudder into Paul's mouth, which Paul drank as if it were nectar.

Still kneeling on the floor at Wayne's feet, Paul began to jerk himself off. Wayne watched for a while, and then told us both to undress. I obeyed without question. I'd just learnt that he had the physical strength to force me to do as he wished, so I thought it better to submit without argument. Wayne did not undress. He directed Paul to suck me off, so I moved round to stand in front of Paul's face. My small, hairless dick was flaccid when he took it into his mouth, but his skilful tongue quickly brought me back to the full two and a half inches of my child's erection. Such was Paul's ability that it even distracted me from the ominous and intimidating sight of my brother, pacing around us, fondling my ass, stroking down Paul's back, and rubbing his massive cock back up to size.

He told me to get down on all fours, squeezed my ass, and then said "Fuck him" to Paul. I turned round to see Wayne spit into his hand and smear it onto Paul's dick, and Paul then shuffled close, taking my hips into his hands.

Paul pushed his dick into my ass, giving a little whimper as he did so. It felt warm, and given its slender proportions, it was not uncomfortable. He leant forward so that his torso was in contact with my back, with an arm wrapped under my chest. Holding me closely he kissed the side of my neck and rolled his hips forward to thrust into me. Such was the pitch of excitement that Paul had been at throughout the proceedings, that on just the third stroke he ejaculated.

I allowed him to hold me after he came, but Wayne was less patient. He began to paw at Paul's backside, before pulling us apart and directing me to fuck my friend. Wayne spat on his hand, and rubbed my semi-hard boner back up to full strength, and then pushed me in the direction of Paul's waiting ass.

I ran my hands over his smooth, hairless buttocks, feeling the softness of them, and pulling them slightly apart. Then I shuffled forward and, directing with my finger, pushed my dick into his ass. I found it less pleasurable than being sucked, there being a constant pressure and no variation. Perhaps my undeveloped dick just wasn't big enough to make the most of this orifice.

Holding his hips, I pulled him onto me with each stroke, pushing harder as I got into it. Wayne knelt in front of Paul's head and Paul sucked him as I continued to fuck his ass. It seemed to take me a long time to reach orgasm, mainly because it was so off putting having Wayne facing me, his cock in Paul's mouth and a gaze of terrifying lust that sometimes fixed on Paul, and sometimes on me. But eventually I came, and when I was done I pulled out and sat down without a word.

Wayne took the opportunity to move round to Paul's ass, and lubricating with spit, pushed in his thick cock. Paul cried out in pain, but Wayne ignored it and thrusted over and over again. Paul started a long, continuous moan, which got louder and louder with each thrust.

I tried to reason with my brother, to make him see that he was really hurting Paul, to get him to stop, but Wayne took no notice. Finally I physically pulled him off my friend, allowing Paul to scramble out from under him.

Wayne swung out at me, punching me full in the face and knocking me out. When I came to, my head was being held down into a pillow, and there was a continuous, repeated and intolerable pain in my backside. I could hear grunts from Wayne as he forcibly fucked me, and tearful entreaties from Paul as he desperately tried to get him off me.

Every now and then, Wayne would pause as he swatted Paul away, and then the pain would start again as he took out all his anger and all his frustration and all his surplus sexual energy on me.

That moment of my life seemed to last forever, I seriously wondered if Wayne would ever stop. Eventually, though, I felt him reach a peak and then slow down.

He pulled out with an unpleasant slurping sound, which made him giggle. He zipped up his fly, and as he left my room, he said, "Later, dickwads," apparently oblivious to the fact that he had done anything wrong.

Paul and I dressed in silence, and neither of us have ever mentioned it.


End file.
